


Moonlight Kiss

by ColbyPuppy



Category: Octopath Traveler (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Vampire Slayer, Assault, Biting, Blood Drinking, Coercion, Darius is an abusive bastard, Darius' dialogue hurts to write, M/M, Manipulation, Simeon is a creep, Slow Burn, Therion (Octopath Traveler) Needs a Hug, Vampires, apparent sexual assault, non-consensual biting, somebody get these boys therapy, this is going to be a ship fic but it takes a few chapters to get there, well most likely slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2020-04-24 20:32:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19180867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColbyPuppy/pseuds/ColbyPuppy
Summary: Monsters stalk the streets of New Orsterra. Vampires, stealing blood from the citizens unfortunate enough to cross their paths in the dead of night. It is for this reason that some take on the role of vampire slayer, hunting down these monsters to keep the people safe.There was a time where the presence of the slayers helped Therion feel safe. But, that time has long since passed.





	1. The Change

**Author's Note:**

> It's another vampire Therion au because I have lost control of my life.
> 
> It's GOING to be Alfion but it might take a few chapters. Starts in the time that Therion was still partners with Darius- he's at most 16 for the first couple chapters.
> 
> ON THAT NOTE SIMEON IS A CREEP.
> 
> also huge thanks to 21stCenturyHero for help with the title. You're a lifesaver.

Therion crept through the halls of the silent manor. It was the dead of night, any visitors long gone and residents deep in their slumber. This was to be the biggest heist he and Darius were to pull off yet. They had split to cover more ground in the massive building, the plan being to compare loot when they got back to their safe house.

Navigating by the moonlight filtering in through the large, ornate windows Therion found his way into the next room. It looked to be a parlor, some fancy room rich people had just for sitting around drinking tea. There was a small table with a fancy tea set laid out on display. What really interested him, however, were the other decorations that dotted the room: display cases showcasing decorative weapons, intricate jewelry, delicate sculptures. (Upon closer inspection the same motif was repeated in some way in all of the decorations- a black bird, like a crow or raven, the look in its eye felt menacing.)

Jackpot. Therion set to work pocketing what things he could easily carry out. Broaches, necklaces, rings- jewelry was always good. Small, lightweight, valuable. With all of this, him and Darius wouldn't have to worry about having enough money for food for a while.

He lifted a gilded dagger from its display. The blade shaped and engraved to have the appearance of a wing, the bird motif appearing on the pommel where gleaming rubies served as the eyes. Jet black, accented by the gold and the silvery shine of the metal of the blade.

"Well, did you find what you were looking for?" Therion froze, eyes going wide. He hadn't heard anyone else enter the room, yet the voice- smooth and amused- was already too close for comfort.

Therion spun around, decorative dagger still in hand, meeting the gaze of a stranger. Tall and lanky, with long white hair tied back and bright eyes that he swore could match his own in hue. But, unlike him, the stranger was inhumanly pale. Judging by the aristocratic suite he wore, off white with golden accents, Therion would guess that the stranger was a resident of the manor- why was he awake? For someone who just caught a thief in his home he didn't look to be angry, in fact he was smiling softly. But his eyes, glinting in the faint light, felt- in a word- predatory.

The young thief took a step away, back hitting the wall. The guy had caught him in a corner (or waited for him to get to the corner- how long had he been watching him? Waiting?)

The man chuckled, strolling forward to further cut off his escape routes. "Did I scare you?"

Therion needed to get out of here. Taking a chance he made to dash around the stranger, only to be yanked to a stop by a firm hand wrapping around his wrist. The tightness of the grip caused his own to loosen, sending the gilded dagger clattering to the ground. Therion squirmed, trying to pull free, "Let- let go of me!"

The stranger maintained his calm, nonchalant demeanor. "Oh, but why would I want to do that?" He grabbed Therion's other wrist before pushing him back against the wall, hands pinned to either side of his head. "It's such a rare treat when my meals come to me... and such a delectable looking little morsel too."

The man's grin widened and Therion noticed in horror the presence of two long, pointed fangs. A vampire? Here? Heart hammering in his chest he made another attempt to wrench himself free- but to no avail. The hands around his wrists were like vices. "H-hey, I, I don't want any trouble. I'll put everything back just please don't-"

He froze as the man leaned in, flinching when he felt the stranger- the vampire- lightly trailing his tongue along the side of his neck. His mind raced in panic- he was running out of time and options.

Teeth lighting grazed against his skin and Therion called out- screaming. "Darius! _DARIUS!_ **_HELP!_** "

The vampire paused in his ministrations as the cry for help echoed down the halls.

Silence.

"But nobody came." The vampire chuckled darkly, moving back in. "Isn't that a shame."

No. No, this couldn't be how it ended. Not as a meal for some monster. Therion cried out again, "Darius! Please-!" He flinched, letting out a wordless shout as he felt the sharp pain of fangs piercing into his neck.

He felt his body go lax in the vampire's grip, shaking as he struggled to hold back tears. Where was Darius? Did he not hear him? Alone, he was alone- he was going to die alone in the hands of a monster.

The process was painfully slow. His eyes stung and clouded and despite his best efforts Therion felt tears roll down his face as he struggled to keep breathing. He begged, softly, for them to stop. Please.

He didn't want to die. Not here. Not like this.

The world started to swim around him, getting harder to focus, dizzy as he felt his life being slowly drained away.

 

  
The other young thief, clad in green, swore to himself as he struggled with the lock on the back door. Just what sort of place was this anyway, that could lock people in?! Therion was always better at lock picking than he was, faster, but he wasn't with him right now. In fact, it sounded like the poor sod had run into some trouble, and Darius was  **not** about to stick around to find out what that was.

He let out a small sigh of relief as the lock clicked open. Bag of loot secured, Darius pushed out the door into the crisp night air.

He made it about three steps before an impact sent him sprawling into the cobblestone below. It felt like somebody had thrown a sack of potatoes at him, the hell?! Swearing under his breath the thief moved to shove what ha been thrown off of him and paused-

It was Therion- unconscious and ashen, a fresh bite wound on his neck.

"Now, it just would not do for you to leave without your little friend." Darius jolted, glancing back to the doorway where he spotted the silhouette of a man. "And after he screamed for you so much... one might wonder if you actually care at all."

With that the door to the manor shut with a soft click, leaving the two thieves sprawled on the cold ground in the dark.

Darius scrambled to his feet, ready to get as far away from this accursed manor as his feet could carry him. His mind raced, after what that guy apparently did to Therion- why was he letting him go? Was this some sort of trap? A trick? He glanced over at the lifeless form of his partner, still sprawled on the ground.

What a waste.

With an annoyed click of the tongue, Darius turned to leave. No use dragging him back- the LAST thing he needed was to be caught with a dead body in tow.

"D-Darius? Is, is that...?" A voice, small and weak, froze him in his tracks. He had heard Therion upset before, nights of interrupted sleep where he was woken by nightmares. But even the worse of those hadn't left him sounding so...broken. Pleading. He heard Therion take in a shuddering breath, like he might start up crying. Annoying- they didn't have time for this.

He glanced back and spotted Therion curled up on the ground. "Gods, still kickin' after all?" He didn't move, just shook as he struggled with another breath. Darius huffed. "C'mon, then, get up."

Therion still didn't move, just shaking as he made a feeble attempt to not cry. Darius rolled his eyes, stepping back over and kneeling down. "You're gonna owe me extra for draggin' your sorry ass back."

"Sorry..." Therion wiped off his face with his free hand as Darius dragged one of his arms over his shoulder, pulling him roughly to his feet. "I'm, I'm sorry-" Another breath, breath, he needed to breath. (Darius hated this, when he cried, he needed to get a hold of himself.) "There- there was- there was a vampire. He snuck up on me and- and-" he clung tight to Darius' coat as they moved at a pace faster than Therion could really manage at the moment, feet stumbling and dragging.

Darius pulled up back up as he stumbled, "all th' more reason for us t' get th' hells out of here. Now quit blabberin' and move your feet."

 

When they, at last, made it back to their safe house Therion immediately collapsed onto the moldy old couch that served as his bed. Darius didn't think much of it, let him mope, he had loot to sort. If Therion's share was a bit small, well, that's what he got for getting caught now wasn't it?

Actually, did he even manage to get anything? Therion didn't move when he tried to get his attention, or even when he prodded at him. (Strange, Therion was usually a light sleeper.) Darius rolled his eyes again, turning Therion over to open and dig into the hidden pockets of his coat. Jewelry- excellent- the night wasn't a total loss after all.

Therion didn't stir until Darius settled into his own bed- a bare mattress pressed against the wall on the opposite side of the room. He sat up, rubbing at the sore spot on his neck. He took in a breath, steadier now, though his voice still came out soft. "I- I thought..." he paused, swallowing a lump that formed in his throat. "I thought that vampire was going to kill me..."

Darius huffed, he thought so too when he first saw him. "Well, ya ain't dead. But that can change if ye keep me up any longer."

Therion hummed, rubbing at his neck again. He turned, placing his feet on the floor. He needed...something. He felt parched. "We still have bottles left from that case of water we got, right?"

"Under th' sink. Don't forget t' write yer name on th' bottle this time. Don't wanna go drinkin' yer spit." With that Darius tucked under his ratty old blanket, back to the wall, a signal that he did not want to be bothered further tonight.

 

Therion huddled in a dark corner of the kitchen area, empty water bottle in hand. The strange thirst he felt had not gone away or even lessened, despite downing the entire bottle. Whatever it was, it wasn't a craving for any food. He knew hunger pangs, was used to ignoring them, this wasn't like that. (Not that they had any food right now anyway.) He could try more water, but... he had a feeling that it wouldn't do any good.

Setting the empty bottle with a cluster of others, Therion sighed and tiptoed back into the other room. Maybe he just needed more rest. (If he could sleep at all. The incident still lingered fresh in his mind. Hands pinned, the body of a stranger pressed up against him, teeth sinking into his neck.)

He settled back onto the couch, staring up at the chipped paint on the ceiling, finding shapes in the patterns and listening to the sounds of distant traffic. Anything, just, something to get his mind off the night's events.

Amidst the rev of distant engines and speeding wheels on pavement, a new sound- quiet but impossible to ignore- entered Therion's awareness. A steady, thumping rhythm, like a distant drum, or...

a heartbeat?

It was driving him crazy, whatever it was, made him all the more aware of that strange thirst, that craving for something he couldn't quite pin down.

Therion rolled over, grabbing his pillow and pressing it over his exposed ear in an attempt to block the noise.

 

  
When Darius woke up the following morning, Therion was already awake. Actually, if the dark circles under his eyes were any indication it looked like he hadn't slept at all. The younger thief was sitting up on the couch, knees hugged to his chest.

Therion watched silently as Darius went through his morning routine. The pounding sound had not stopped, if anything it seemed to have gotten louder, traveling as Darius moved about the room as though it was coming from him. The unidentified craving clawed at his mind. He... he needed...

The sound called to him- he wanted to bite Darius. (A horrible idea, out of the question. But that the thought entered his mind at all scared him.)

Darius strolled back into the room, smoothing back his hair with his fingers. "You done mopin'? C'mon, I'm starvin', we can hit up that waffle place."

Therion forced himself to look away, eyes falling to the floor. "You can go on ahead, I... I think there's something wrong with me."

He felt Darius coming closer and shrunk back. "We've been over this, mate. Ye ain't gonna feel better unless ya get up and move." The annoyance dripped from his voice. "Now, get up."

Darius' hand closed around his wrist (just like, no, don't think about last night,) tugging roughly to pull the smaller thief to his feet. Therion could feel his pulse through the contact, pounding against his skin, the impulsive thought of biting his partner returned.

Therion tugged at his wrist, eyes wide. "D-Darius, please- let go. I-"

Surprisingly, his wrist was released. Therion stumbled, falling back onto the couch, shaking as he tried to keep himself under control. What was wrong with him?

"...Therion." The serious tone of Darius' voice made him glance up, he looked...spooked? "Yer teeth."

"My-?" Therion paused, inspecting with his tongue, eyes going wide in realization.

Fangs.

He brought a hand up to his neck again, shaking, feeling at where he had been bitten. Last night...he, he HAD died. He died, and then... but why? Why turn him into one of THEM only to toss him back out on the streets?

Darius had pulled out his dagger, pointing it his way. "You've been turned into one of those Gods-damned monsters?!"

Therion held up his hands, shaking his head. "I- I'm not going to hurt you- I don't WANT to hurt you- I swear-" truthfully he wasn't sure how long he could keep his word. The need for blood was strong. "Darius- please- I- I'm not a monster-" please, don't let him become a monster. "We're partners, brothers, right?"

He felt the threat of tears stinging at his eyes as Darius studied his face, frowning. He couldn't blame him, if he chose to dispose of him now. At the very least it would be a quicker death than the one he experienced last night.

Darius grumbled, tucking his dagger away. "...alright." Relief washed over Therion as he let out a shaky breath, Darius held up his other hand. "Stay here, I'll figure somethin' out. Ya ain't bitin' me, I'm tellin' ya now." He strolled away, scooping up the loot they gathered last night and stuffing it into his bag before making his way for the exit. "Don't say I ain't done nothin' for ya."


	2. The Gift

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff and anxiety. 
> 
> You can probably guess that bad things are on the horizon but for now, something soft.

Three months.

It had been three months now since the incident that had altered Therion's life forever. Three months of staying huddled in their safe house to avoid the sun, of Darius bringing him meals of congealed pig's blood bought or stolen from a shop he refused to name. Three months of only getting out when it was time to pull another heist.

Therion sighed, flipping through the pages of an old magazine he had already read countless times over. Darius was running late today. Normally he would have at least stopped by to check on him and the safe house before heading back out, if he planned to be out late.

Tossing the magazine aside, Therion laid back on the couch. This was his life now. Cooped up, day after day. Leaving on his own, or even hanging out with Darius in the evenings, it carried too much risk. He was, legally speaking, a monster now. Monsters didn't have rights, there was no protection for him if someone were to assault him on the street. Even worse- vampires were regularly hunted down in order to keep the city streets safe.

In a way, it was funny, there was a time that knowing there was a vampire hunter on patrol made him feel safer. After all, him and Darius were just the sort of people most likely to be targeted. Street rats, people who could disappear and nobody would ever know or care.

Therion startled from his thoughts at the sound of the door being thrown open- Darius kicking it with force since it had a tendency to stick. The door slammed closed and Therion sat up as Darius made his way into the room, a wicked grin on his face and something smuggled under his coat.

He shifted his grip on whatever it was. "Yer in luck, found a little somethin' for ye on me way back."

"You got me something?" Therion raised an eyebrow. "What's the occasion?"

"No occasion, just a special treat for my partner." He pulled out his hand, revealing something small, black, and fuzzy.

It wiggled, letting out a squeaky mew, and Therion gasped softly as he realized it was a kitten. He caught sight of its bright yellow eyes, fur mostly black aside from a small white streak on its nose and white paws like it wore mittens. Darius dropped it into his hands and the kitten mewed again before climbing up his arm and chest, tiny claws digging into the fabric of his hoodie.

He was in love instantly.

Darius crossed his arms. "Thought ye might like havin' something fresh for a change."

"What?" Therion pulled the kitten away from his shoulder, settling it in his lap. He looked down at the kitten, then back at his partner. He couldn't be serious about that- who was he kidding of course he was serious. "I'm not eating somebody's cat, Darius."

Darius snorted. "Don't belong to anyone, it's a stray."

The kitten stared up at him, mewing before it set to work climbing again. Therion shook his head. "No, I'm not killing a kitten for blood." He couldn't. Not when it looked at him with eyes so innocent, bright, perhaps a little sad. Not when it finally succeeded in scaling him to curl up in his hood, settling in and purring softly.

Darius rolled his eyes. "An' here I thought becomin' a monster would toughen ye up. That sentimentality is gonna be the death of ye one o' these days." He made to reach for the kitten. "Here, if you won't do it then-"

Therion moved away, earning himself a scowl. "I don't want you to kill it either- I want to... I can look after it. Should give me something to keep me busy during the day."

Darius continued to glare at him. "...fine." He backed off, "but I ain't payin' t' feed it." With that Darius turned, shaking his head as he made his way for the door. He swore as he forced it open, the slam signaling he was gone for the evening.

Therion let out the breath he was holding in a sigh of relief.

Well. Guess he had a cat now.

Now what?

What was he going to feed it? They didn't really keep food aside from occasional fruits, maybe bags of chips- and none of that seemed like something a cat would eat.

He glanced out the window before pulling out his phone- an old flip top that Darius had him carry in case of emergencies. The time displayed in small numbers in the corner of the screen: half past six. Maybe if he hurried he could find something down at the shops.

Therion carefully removed the sleeping kitten from his hood and stood, the little creature letting out a tiny, irritated mew of protest. He paused, thinking, ask the kitten wiggled in his hands. Was he really going to take this risk, leaving the safe house alone?

The kitten needed food and water, and Darius made it clear he wasn't about to help.

He looked around, moving the kitten into one of his hidden inner pockets where it settled in to sleep. As he zipped his jacket back up his eyes fell on his old scarf that he typically only wore in the warmer months. That might be just what he needed. He picked it up, wrapping the garment loose around the lower half of his face. He might get some looks- it was getting warm for scarves. If anyone asked he could just say he had a cold.

Hopefully nobody would ask.

Therion scooped up his wallet, taking a moment to check on his funds. He hadn't exactly been spending much the past few months, aside from paying Darius when he brought him blood meals, which they found he only really needed about once a week. So, with any luck, he would have enough for what the kitten would need with what he had managed to save up.

He made his way to the door and paused as he reached for the knob, taking in a deep breath to calm his screaming nerves. There was no denying that this was a risk, if anybody noticed he wasn't human... that would be it. End of the line.

Letting out the held breath, Therion pushed his way out the door.

 

  
Therion kept his head ducked down as he moved with hurried steps down the street, hood up to block out what remained of the daylight. He didn't want to linger long, let anyone get too good of a look at him.

He just, needed to get to the shops, get what he needed, and get back to the safe house. A fast, simple errand. Easy. And yet the thought of being out here, alone in public, made him so uneasy. It shouldn't, he knew it shouldn't, but his heart pounded hard in his chest all the same. Paranoia prickled at the back of his mind, putting him on high alert, he could swear he felt eyes on him.

At last he found his way to his destination: a small pet shop nestled on the street corner. He had never been in before, but he had passed by countless times in the past. A set of bells tied to the door chime as he enters, drawing the attention of the young woman behind the counter.

The shop clerk shoots him a classic customer-service smile. "Good afternoon! Do you need help finding anything?"

Therion froze, mind suddenly racing, he really hadn't been planning on talking to anyone- but he also had absolutely no idea what all he actually needed. "I, uh..." his voice came out barely over a whisper as he nervously tugged up on his scarf.

A soft mew issued from his jacket and he could feel the kitten stirring within his pocket. The clerk raised an eyebrow at him.

Breath in, breath out. He was doing this for the kitten. "I. Need some supplies. For, ah," He paused as he felt the kitten trying to climb out of his pocket. Not wanting it to fall, he unzipped his jacket just enough to reach in and catch it, pulling out the kitten to hold it in his arms. The kitten mewed, clamoring to climb up to his shoulders again.

The clerk gasped softly and smiled. "Oh, how cute! Do they have a name?"

Therion ducked further into his scarf. "Not, not yet...just got them a little while ago..." Please, no more small talk, just. Point him towards what he would need.

The clerk stepped out from behind the counter and motioned for him to follow. "Our feline section is this way. So, is this your first time owning a cat? How old is your little friend there?"

Therion moved to follow the clerk, pausing a moment to pull the kitten away from his shoulder. Breath. "...first time with any pet, yeah..." A few other people milled about the shop, a few glanced his way as they passed. He told himself they were likely looking at the kitten, though his nerves screamed otherwise. "And I, ah, I don't know. How old."

The clerk turned back around to face him, taking a moment to stare at the kitten. "Hm, if I had to guess... I'd say they look to be about a month old. So, you'll want some kitten formula to mix into their food..." she turned back around, pointing out items on the shelves as she dove into everything the kitten would need. Not just food- but a litter box, toys ("that little one is about the age where kittens get really active- you'll need to play with them a lot.") It was a lot of information to take in.

Still feeling eyes on him, Therion glanced back behind him. There he spotted a young girl with short, brown hair wearing a stained yellow dress, peeking into the aisle. She looked similar to the clerk, a younger sibling maybe?

"Oh, Tressa!" Therion jumped slightly, not quite prepared for how close the clerk had come to him. "Could you take a few things to the front counter for us? This young man has his hands rather full."

The girl- Tressa- smiled and nodded as the clerk passed over kitten formula and canned food. "Sure thing, mom!" She rushed off, bounce in her step.

Therion's eyes went wide, mom?! The clerk must be older than he thought. When Tressa returned she lingered close to him as her mother went over the options for litter boxes and litter. She leaned over to get a closer look at the kitten whenever she thought he wasn't looking.

Therion lowered the kitten, turning slightly her way. Tressa smiled bright, "Aw, they're so small!" She reached over, gently petting the kitten with two fingers. "What's their name? Are they a boy, or a girl? Where did you get them?"

The questions came one after another in rapid succession and Therion was torn between listening to them and the explanations of the differences in the different kinds of kitty litter. "I, ah, don't..."

Thankfully, the clerk intervened. "Oh, Tressa, could you go get Doctor Darkwood's contact information?" Therion breathed out a sigh of relief as the young girl scurried off again. The clerk shot him a gentle smile. "If you don't have a vet picked out yet, Doctor Darkwood is very experienced. He won't overcharge you like the more commercial places either."

Therion moved the kitten to one hand to reach up and tug at his scarf. Supplies, a vet, he counted out the cost so far in his head. Would he be able to afford a vet visit?

Tressa returned, handing him an index card with the name and address of the clinic, as well as business hours. He muttered out a small thanks before tucking the card into his pants pocket.

In a way, it all felt so normal. The clerk and her daughter helped him find what he needed, suggesting items based on what would be most practical rather than just trying to sell him what was most expensive. It was, honestly, not something he would have expected. They also made sure he would be able to carry back what he bought on his own, kitten in tow.

As the clerk checked him out, bagging his purchase, a part of him almost forgot what a risk this all was. What might happen if his scarf fell.

The clerk packed away the last of his items, "you get home safe, now."

Tressa, who was holding the kitten for him when he paid, excitedly chimed in, "yeah! It's getting dark- that's when the vampires come out!"

Therion felt his heart skip a beat.

"Tressa! Come now, don't scare him. There haven't been any vampire sightings around here for months." The clerk waited as Therion secured the kitten back in his inner jacket pocket, then handed him his bags. "Feel free to stop in if you have more questions!"

Therion nodded, tugging up his scarf one last time before taking his bags. "R-right. Right. Thanks."

He couldn't get back to the safe house fast enough.


	3. An End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last of the flashback chapters! Buckle up, this one's a ride.
> 
> Darius is an awful, abusive bastard. Mind the tags, and if there's every anything that you think should be tagged but isn't please do let me know and I'll add it to the list!

Mornings soon became marked by insistent meows of the little group's newest member. Therion chuckled as the kitten batted at his face, giving the little creature a scratch behind the ears as he sat up.

It was the literal crack of dawn, the sun not yet visible aside from the lightening of the sky.

"Morning to you too, Seir, you hungry?" Therion spoke in hushed tones, even if it was already too late as Seir screeched out his reply.

Darius pulled his blanket up over his head. Bringing Therion that kitten was shaping up to be the worst decision he had ever made. "Just feed the bastard already so he shuts the hells up." He growled out.

Seir trotted at Therion's heels as he made his way into the kitchen area, still screaming as Therion started getting his food ready. Well, no point pretending he was going to fall back asleep in the racket. Darius dragged himself up, pulling out an old comb to tug the tangles from his long hair as he went to watch the new morning ritual.

He shook his head at the sight: the kitten was climbing up Therion's leg in his excitement. Ridiculous. Both of them. Why Therion tolerated it was beyond him, not just the climbing, the noise and the mess and the biting and clawing. Maybe he would get tired of it one day.

Maybe if he 'forgot' to pick up blood for him he would reconsider the point of him bringing him the creature in the first place.

Therion chuckled as he placed the food down, the kitten releasing his leg and halfway climbing into the dish. Had he ever seen his partner smile so brightly before?

Darius huffed, backing out of the kitchen space. An idea for another day, maybe. He couldn't be entirely sure Therion wouldn't turn on him first, after all. (As if he'd have the gal to, monster or not.) "I'm heading out. Be ready when I get back, we're staking out that place uptown t'night."

He headed out the door as Therion replied, his eye catching the glint of metal as he slammed the door closed.

There was a note, pinned to the door with an elaborate decorative dagger. Jet black, the blade shaped almost like a wing and accented with gold and silvery exposed metal to give the illusion of feathers. The pommel curved like a beak, he could just make out the menacing gaze of two red gems that served as eyes.

Darius frowned, pulling his eyes away to quickly survey the hall. Dark and empty, as always, air dense with cobwebs and dust. Taking the paper in one hand and the dagger in the other, he carefully wrenched the blade free of the door. Holding up the note he could, just barely, make out the words written out in graceful, sweeping letters.

  
_What a waste, don't you think?_

 

 

The manor looked different in the daylight. Colors danced off stained glass windows on the upper floors, the surrounding gardens a vibrant green. The grounds were lively, people milling about in fancy dress, as if some sort of party or event was going on.

Darius fingered the hilt of the dagger tucked away in his coat. This felt like a bad idea. He saw what the bastard that lived here did to his partner. At the same time- he already knew where they lived. If he had wanted to kill him he could have done so instead of leaving the note.

The guy was trying to play him, and Darius didn't like it.

The young thief snuck over the elaborate, decorative fence and up the yard easy enough. The security guards didn't seem to really be paying attention, focused instead on the guests who were absorbed in their own conversations. The topiary offered plenty of cover, allowing him to get all the way to the main building without being spotted.

It felt too easy. Maybe that was the idea- there was even a large, open window waiting on the bottom floor. Not far from his cover in the bushes. Darius scanned the room from his hiding spot, it looked to be dark. No lights on, no sound of chatter or people moving around- empty and unused.

Darius climbed in, keeping close to the wall as he slipped out an open door into the hall. He could hear the distant commotion of the guests in one direction and chose to continue the other way, slinking further into the manor.

Getting himself deeper into whatever trap he was walking into.

The grip on his dagger tightened as he came upon an open door, slightly ajar, far enough in that only the distant music from the garden could be still heard. He peeked in through the crack- a parlor lined with decorative cases.

"Ah, you found my invitation. Good." Darius would never admit how much he startled at the sudden voice, calm and smooth, that called to him from the room. He didn't have to, the way the bastard laughed he likely heard his heart trying to leap from his chest. "Well, come in."

Taking a deep breath, Darius puffed out his chest and pushed open the door. "Alright ye bastard-" he pulled out the blade- the same dagger that he had found stabbed into his door. (For something that looked ornamental, it was well made. Sharp and sturdy.) "I don't know what y' think you're playin' at but I don't care for games."

The man- the vampire, Darius reminded himself, was seated at a table carefully decorated with a tea set for two and a stand laden with small sandwiches and cookies. He smiled, motioning toward the empty seat as he carefully poured tea into the cups. "Oh, no, I can tell you are quite the intelligent young man. Smart enough to know, for instance, that if I wanted you dead or under my control we wouldn't be having this conversation..."

Darius continued to frown at him, eventually relenting and sheathing his dagger as he settled into the chair. He scrutinized his cup, watching as the vampire took a sip from his own. He looked at him expectantly. Waiting.

He looked down at the steaming liquid again. It could be poisoned. It could be drugged. Already too late to run- actually, if he did run he probably would be killed.

This was a test. It had to be.

He took a careful sip of tea, keeping his eyes locked on the vampire. It didn't taste off- but, well, only time would tell if he just made a mistake.

"Alright," he set down his cup, still not daring to look away. "Just what's yer angle- what part am I playin' in this little game of yours."

The man smirked and settled back in his chair. "In time, play your cards right and you may just find yourself in a lead role." He paused, picking up one of the cookies and turning it over idly in his fingers. "Such a shame how your little friend squanders his new abilities. He could be so much stronger. You both could."

Darius considered, picking up one of the miniature sandwiches. "Ye have my attention."

 

 

Therion chuckled from where he was leaning over the arm of the couch, dangling the feathered end of the cat wand with one hand. Seir had more energy by the day, even if he wasn't fully used to coordinating his limbs yet. The little kitten would pounce, tumble, then spring up and try again like nothing had ever happened.

At last Seir managed to catch the feathered end, biting on before rolling over to kick at it with his back feet. Therion lightly tried to tug the toy away, laughing again. "Oh, so ferocious."

The door slammed open and Therion dropped the toy. "Darius?" That sounded like his usual entrance- but this was wrong. It was too early in the day for him to be back. Had he left something here? Worse- had Therion forgotten or done something to upset him?

His concerns had no time to stew as he was hit by the smell, familiar- like when Darius came home with blood meals for him. But different. Stronger. Fresher. It made his mouth water, made him painfully aware of the ever building thirst that nagged at the back of his mind.

Therion felt his heart sink, a feeling of dread settling over him. He rolled off the couch, stepping with urgency towards the entryway. "Darius, is something-"

He froze at the sight that greeted him. Darius was breathing heavily, gripping the door frame in one hand and his side with the other. Red stained his hand, saturated the clothing around the hidden wound until it dripped down to the ground. His limbs shook, his grip on the doorway slipped.

" _Darius!_ " Therion rushed forward, catching his partner as he fell towards the ground. Shit, what should he do? What _could_ he do? The most they had was an old bottle of peroxide- but disinfectant wouldn't keep someone from bleeding out. Slowly lowering the two of them to the floor, Therion shifted to hold Darius with one arm while he scrambled for his phone with the other. "Hang, hang on. Just hang on I'll. I'll call an ambulance-"

A firm, bloody hand locked around his wrist. "And-" Darius hissed from the pain. "And what th' fuck do ye think yer gonna tell 'em? Compromise our safe house- get yerself killed?" He paused, drawing in another deep breath and shaking his head. "Like they'd give a shit about a couple tea leaves like us anyway."

"I, I don't," Breath in, breath out. The smell of blood was so strong, overpowering. Therion felt his eyes start to sting and water. "I don't know. I don't know what else to do- Darius if you don't get help you're going to- to-" a pause, breathing was harder as he tried not to sob. "This could kill you. I don't want you to die."

"Well shit- I don't want t' fuckin' die either." Darius' hand trembled, his grip tightened. It hurt.

Therion's mind raced, something else. He needed to do something. "Okay, o-okay, I'll- bandages. I'll find something, something to bandage you up- ah" He glanced around. What could he use? Darius' blanket- no he'd kill him if he so much as touched it. Couch- no, rug- no, he needed cloth. Clothing. His shirt? Would that be enough to stem the blood flow? Therion moved to take off his shirt, but Darius wouldn't release his wrist.

Darius frowned at him. "Th' fuck do ya think yer doin'?"

"I was thinking- I could cut up my shirt for bandages-"

"That ratty old thing isn't gonna stop shit." Darius cut him off then groaned, curling in on himself from the pain.

"What- what else- it'd be better than nothing, wouldn't it?" Therion tried to keep his own voice steady, but it was hard. Hard not to match Darius' rise in tone, hard to not just give in to the panic and scream. "Just- let go and- and I'll get you disinfected and bandaged up- and. And maybe-" Maybe he would last the night. Maybe he would be able to recover.

Darius groaned again, lifting his face to level a pained glare at him. "And maybe make me fuckin' suffer a few days instead?" He pulled him closer by the wrist. "I gotta spell it out for ya? Ye got- ye got one way t' make sure I don't go pushin' up daisies."

Therion's face scrunched up in confusion. What could he do? Calling for help wasn't an option. They didn't really have medical supplies- not to handle something as serious as this.

Whatever answer he was supposed to know, he didn't come up with it fast enough. Darius rolled his eyes. "Gods damn- you're a vampire Therion. Now what can vampires do t' keep someone alive?"

Oh- **OH.** Therion shook his head, "Darius, no, no I can't- I can't do that to you. You don't want this-"

"So yer just gonna let me drop dead, then?" Darius snapped at him. "After all I've done for ye-"

Therion felt tears rolling down his face. "That's not, that's not what I, I don't, I don't want you to die-" he wiped at his face with his free hand, crying was only going to make this worse but they wouldn't stop. "I don't want you to die! But- Darius I don't want to- you don't want this. Being a vampire is a curse I can't- I can't do that to you-"

"So that's it, then. Yer gonna leave me t' die. Some partner you are..." Darius released his grip on Therion's wrist, turning away. "Rather be all 'oh woe is me' over yer little condition than keep yer brother from dying."

"Darius, it's not- I-" He took in a shaky breath, eyes trailing to the red left on his wrist. The growing puddle on the floor.

He didn't want to lose him. His partner, his brother. Him, and now Seir, they were all Therion had.

He let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. "Okay. I'll. I'll do it. Just, hang in there, you're going to be okay."

 

  
Darius adjusted to his vampirism quicker than Therion had. He was also more brazen, still venturing out do do his own thing often late into the night. It made Therion worry, but then it wasn't too different from when they were both human. Darius would sometimes drag him along places, but would just as often go out alone. Sometimes when he returned he would stink of smoke or drink, or return with bruises or small cuts.

So. Business as usual then. It was late, well past midnight. Therion laid on the couch, gently scratching Seir behind his ear as the kitten slept on his chest, his soft purrs rumbling like a little motor.

The doorknob to the entrance rattled in warning before the door was kicked open, Darius grumbling as he slammed it back closed. Therion expected him to turn in for the night. Instead, Darius' face came into view as the older thief leaned over him from the side of the couch, a cheerful grin on his face.

Therion raised an eyebrow. "Something going on?"

Darius leaned on the arm of the couch. "Well, you tell me, birthday boy." He chuckled, motioning over his shoulder with his thumb. "Supposed to be a meteor shower t'night, should start up soon. There's a prime spot on th' roof waitin' for us."

"Really?" Therion smiled back, moving Seir from his chest to his pillow as he sat up. The kitten meowed in complaint before curling back up. "We better hurry, then. Let me find my shoes."

  
There was a chill in the air that evening, their breaths came out in swirling clouds as they stepped out onto the rooftop of their abandoned building. It looked like Darius had even gone through the trouble of clearing away some of the trash and animal droppings.

Therion stepped up to the center of the cleared area, gazing up at the night sky. If anything good had come from becoming a vampire, it was this. Stars, countless numbers of them, filled the sky. More than he had ever seen before, even on the darkest of nights out here. It was a perfect night for stargazing as well, not a cloud in sight and the two of them settled in.

There was a streak of light, Therion gasped softly. "Ah! There goes one!"

"Ye should make a wish." Darius lightly elbowed him in the side. "It's yer birthday, maybe it'd come true fer once!"

Therion let out a small laugh, focusing back on the sky. "A wish, hu?" He considered as more flashes of light streaked across the sky, coming and going in clusters. If he could wish for anything... well, it would have to be something that had a chance to come true, wouldn't it? As much as he would like for them to both be able to be human again. "I guess, if I were to wish for anything..."

He wasn't able to finish the thought. He gasped, doubling over as a sharp pain stabbed into his side, shouted out in pain as the offending object was torn free. A firm hand gripped him at the back of his neck, forcing him up to his feet.

Therion gripped at his side, eyes darting between his partner's face and the weapon in his hand. "Darius...? What, what are you-?" Darius' smile looked downright wicked, baring his fangs in the moonlight. In his other hand, a red sheen on the blade, was a familiar wing-shaped dagger. "That's- from that vampire's manor?"

Darius nodded, holding the blade up as though he were admiring it. "That it is. See, the two of us had a little chit-chat a while back. If only you knew the sort of things you could do, if you hadn't been oh so insistent on not biting folks." He twirled the dagger in his hand. "See, he promised me a nice, cushy position in his little group. All I gotta do..." He pointed the blade forward, tilting up Therion's face with the flat of the blade. "Is get rid of you."

Therion swallowed, trying to keep his breathing steady in spite of the pain. This, no, this couldn't actually be happening. "That's- a bit drastic, don't you think?" He forced a smile onto his face, searching Darius' eyes for something. Anything. He cared about him, didn't he? "I- I mean, we're brothers, right?"

Darius' smile dropped to a frown, Therion shouted as there was an impact to his face. The area around and over his left eye throbbed, stung, he felt something warm and wet running down his face. "You sentimental fool- you think I ever actually gave a shit about any of that? You were useful- and so easy to fool with a few cheap words. But now, ye only got one good use left. See, got told some interestin' things, about what makes a vampire strong."

He pulled Therion closer, faces mere inches apart. "Human blood is all well and good, but it turns out, you drain another vampire and their power becomes yer own."

Therion felt his blood run cold, he found himself acutely aware of just how strong the grip on the back of his neck held him. "You- you can't be- Darius don't-" He tried to push away, to squirm free, but it was like he was fighting a wall. "Not like this, please-"

There was a clatter of metal as Darius tossed the dagger aside, free hand coming up to cup Therion's face. "It was nice knowing you, Therion, but this? This is the end." He moved in, tugging down the scarf and allowing no time for a reply as he bit roughly down onto his neck.

Therion let out a pained shout, unlike the first time this had happened the bite didn't force his muscles to relax. He squirmed, trying to pull away, to escape, but Darius simply growled and tightened his grip.

By the time he stopped, Therion no longer had the energy to keep struggling- his body limp like a rag doll as he was dragged to the edge of the roof. Darius chucked him off unceremoniously, likely just as he had done with the trash he had cleared away earlier.

And so he fell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To anyone worried: I promise Seir lives. I refuse to kill any pets. It hurts too much.


	4. A Start

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick warning for violence at the start of this chapter. I swear things are going to start getting better for Therion soon.

Evening in downtown New Orsterra. A cool mist hung in the air as a light rain fell, spattering droplets highlighted in the streetlights. Autumn was creeping in, adding a nip of cold to the night air. Pleasantly cool, perhaps, when dry- but the dampness of the air and rain seemed designed to sap away warmth.

Therion sighed, pulling his scarf up over his nose before tucking his fingers back into his pockets. He wasn't fond of this time of year. Living on the streets left him at the mercy of the elements, and while the cold couldn't kill him anymore it didn't stop the discomfort. Even after, how long now? Five years? Six? He never could get used to it.

A smarter person might have sought shelter. Get out of the cold, the rain, the dark.

The dark was dangerous, after all. Therion chuckled to himself at that thought: he was one of the things people were hiding from, after all. Sure, there were other monsters that lived on the streets. Ratkin, birdians, settling in the nooks and crannies of old areas abandoned or out of reach of the city's human denizens. Sometimes they caused trouble, but for the most part they kept to themselves, avoiding people if they could.

Then there were the vampires. They were all human once, and Therion supposed that was part of why they were so much worse. Regular monsters just tried to survive. But people- they would stab you in the back for status, wealth, power. Things that, for some, came easier with the abilities being a vampire 'gifted' them: all they had to do was keep out of the sun and get regular blood meals. Preferably human blood- for most.

Therion huffed, turning into an alley as he spotted some other pedestrians up the street. He avoided people if he could. There was just too much risk.

That was the problem, that vampires so actively sought out human meals. Therion braced as a cold wind blew, a loose piece of damp paper catching on his foot. A missing person's poster, old and faded. The lucky ones woke up on the streets, injured and perhaps lightheaded, but alive. But others? Therion supposed it was just a question of how long until the bodies were found, if they turned up at all.

Approaching footsteps, Therion picked up his pace, ducking behind a dumpster. He watched as another person passed by, eyeing the combat axe strapped to their back. He held his breath, ducking back out of sight as they paused about midway. Humanity wasn't about to lie down and allow themselves to be prey, oh no.

There was a time when knowing vampire hunters patrolled the streets made him feel safer. A light shone down the alley way, illuminating scattered trash and specks of rain. Therion tensed, ready to start running at a moment's notice. The light vanished, and the footsteps- heavy boots on concrete, starting up again as the slayer continued on their way.

Yeah, he didn't feel safe anywhere these days.

Therion let out his held breath. Breath in, breath out, he was fine. Not feeling like taking his chances going back out on the sidewalk, Therion slunk further into the dark of the back alleys. He was constantly on the hunt himself. No home base, no funds, a vampire like him had to keep himself fed somehow.

He froze, spotting a target as he turned a corner. The creature melted into the shadows where the ground met the wall, busying itself with some bit of garbage. Stalking rats and mice like he was some sort of cat turned humanoid wasn't the most _dignifying_ thing, but they kept him fed. Kept him in control. And stalk he did, quieting his breathing, crouching down low as he crept closer.

The rat looked up, sniffing the air. Sensing that he was about to miss his chance, Therion pounced just as the rat set off at a run. His hand collided with something sharp and he winced, muttering a curse under his breath as he got back on his feet. Great, not only did he lose a chance at a meal, he went and injured himself too.

A brash laugh echoed around him and Therion felt his heart sink. This late at night, alone and away from the main street, running into others couldn't possibly be good.

Therion looked around, trying to pinpoint where the laughter had come from. Footsteps on metal- he looked up in time to spot a tall, lithe but muscular man leaping over the railing of a fire escape. The way the red-haired man's eyes glinted in the low light told Therion all he needed to know: a vampire. Like him.

The other vampire chuckled again, stretching after sticking his landing. "Oh, now, THAT was a treat! You down on yer luck there, guy?"

"You... could say that." Therion's mind raced, mapping out potential escape routes. He hated this, that this guy managed to sneak up on him.

"Aw," The stranger made a mockery of a pout as he started to step forward, "get a little cut, did you? Don't bother denyin' it, I can smell it." He cracked a toothy, wolfish grin. "What do ya say I help ya with that?"

"Think I'll give that a hard pass." With that Therion bolted, putting distance between himself and the other vampire. He was pretty fast, but if the heavy footsteps at his heels told him anything it was that the other vampire was too.

He took another corner, skidding on the wet ground. After carefully sidestepping a haphazard pile of pipes and broken wood the worst happened: Therion's foot hit uneven ground, tipping sideways at his ankle. **No** , _no no **no**_ \- in an instant he was on the ground, gritting his teeth as his injured hand hit the pavement. Up, he needed to get up before-

An unforgiving grip latched onto his injured ankle. "Ye know, I was considering lettin' ya live, but ye just had t' go and run." Therion tried to kick away, their other hand gripped his leg just over his ankle. "Why don't I just make sure ya stick around, yeah?"

There was a horrible feeling of his ankle popping out of place, bone grating on bone. Therion couldn't help it. He screamed in pain, shaking as his leg was released. He turned over, hands going to his injured ankle in time to see the other vampire casually strolling away.

The stranger hefted a long, bent metal pipe from the pile, testing the weight in his hand. Therion didn't like the look of this. He took a firm hold of his ankle, clenching his jaw through the pain as he tried to push things back into place.

A loud crack reverberated down the alley as a shattering pain shot up his arm. Therion screamed, the force of the blow knocking him sideways. Instinctively, he curled up, shielding his head with his still functioning arm to protect himself from further assault.

The stranger laughed again, the sound background noise in Therion's ears. "Now, was that really so hard?" A hand gripped at the front of his shirt, hefting him off the ground before forcing Therion against a wall. The stranger's free hand came up, ripping away his scarf and throwing it aside. "Now why don't ye let me put you out of yer misery, yeah?"

Therion continued to squirm, gripping the hand holding him up at the wrist as his other arm hung limp at his side.

He didn't want to die. ( _hands pinning his own, a low laugh in his ear._ ) Not like this. ( _Teeth tearing roughly into his neck, his pleas for mercy going ignored._ ) Not **again**. ( _Used up, tossed away, the roar of wind as he fell-_ )

A bright light filled the alley, both vampires flinching as their sensitive eyes readjusted. " **Drop them** , Miguel." The voice was firm, demanding. Therion squinted into the light- the man, the same one from earlier, was tall and stocky in build. His battle axe was in hand now, the light source coming from a headlamp that allowed the slayer to keep his hands free.

The other vampire- Miguel- smirked. "Well, if it ain't the little greenhorn out on patrol again. Why don't ye go play somewhere else, yeah?"

The man frowned, adjusting his grip on his axe. "I said **drop them**." Their voice shook with barely contained rage, Therion felt a lump form in his throat. "You- you promised me! Told me ya knew how t' get by on rats and such- that you wouldn't attack folks anymore!"

"Ah, but I am keeping me promise-" Miguel jostled Therion, "little _rat sucker_ like this is just as much a nuisance- I'm just doing me own pest control really."

"..." The man lowered his axe with a tired sigh. "Fine, ya know what? I get it. This is my fault, I shouldn't have let you go in the first place." His expression hardened as he lifted his axe up again, taking another step forward. "Shoulda known better than t' trust a bloodsucker- but I won't be making that mistake again!"

The man rushed forward and Miguel released his hold, allowing Therion to crumble back to the ground. "Yeah, greenhorn, ya think a mollycoddle like ye can lay a scratch on me?" There was the sound of metal colliding with metal. "Think I know a few other vamps who'd just LOVE yer head on a platter!"

If he was going to have any chance to escape, this would be it. Bracing himself against the wall, Therion tried to pull himself up. Drag himself forward, away from the fight. No matter what the outcome was, the winner would be the death of him. He needed to move, find a place to hide so he could heal. The rain slicked the brick and, try as he might, he just couldn't seem to get a good enough grip to make any sort of progress.

Negative thoughts swirled in his head, clashing with the violent noise of the nearby fight. Hopeless, this was _hopeless_. He couldn't _fight back_. He couldn't _run_. At this point, even if he could fix his ankle- it would still slow him down too much.

He heard Miguel begging for mercy- followed by a wet crunch that made Therion want to puke. The smell of blood and smoke mixed with the rain as the fallen vampire turned to ash- the magic that once powered him collapsing. The slayer was breathing heavily. There was a scraping of metal- the axe being dragged off the ground- and approaching footsteps in his direction.

Therion curled up again, wrenching his eyes shut. This was it, then. End of the line.

The footsteps stopped, the slayer was right next to him now. Therion tensed, waiting.

"Hey, this is yours, right?" The slayer's voice had taken on a completely different tone now. Soft and gentle.

Confused, Therion cracked his eyes open. The man was crouched down, weapon put away, Therion's scarf held out in his hands.

And he was smiling, soft and perhaps slightly forced- an attempt to be reassuring? Did he. Did he not realize Therion was a vampire too? Maybe he could get out of this alive after all.

"Here," the man laid the scarf on the ground in front of Therion when he didn't move, "I'm gonna call up an ambulance for ya. You're gonna be okay."

An ambulance? Therion shoved himself up with his good arm, alarmed. "No- don't-" he winced as his injured arm jostled. He took a breath, trying to calm himself before he continued. "That's. Really not necessary."

The man frowned, but stopped digging in his pocket. "Your arm is broken. I ain't about t' leave ya all beaten up like this- it ain't right." He paused, looking Therion over for a moment, scrutinizing him.

Oh no, was it too suspicious? Turning down his offer to call for help like that? Therion's gaze dropped to the ground, to where his scarf sat near his feet. He moved to pick it up, freezing when he noticed the slayer reaching for his extended hand.

They didn't grip him, just gently encouraged him to turn his hand over- exposing the deep gash on his palm. "Oof, that looks like it hurts. Here-" He reached to his side, unlatching a box attached to his belt. "I still want t' take ya to the hospital, but I can patch ya up a bit first."

Therion pulled his hand back, shaking his head. "Don't bother, I'll be fine on my own, just..." His heart hammered in his chest- the longer it took for him to get this guy to leave the more likely it was he'd be found out.

The silence felt like it drew on for ages, was this it?

"Hey, I get it, medical bills are a bitch, yeah?" He shot him another reassuring smile, "we actually got a program set up with th' hospital, to help folks in situations like this. Them neck biters just seem drawn t' folks down on their luck, hu?" He pulled a bottle from his medical kit, squinting at the label before opening it and holding out his hand.

Therion snorted, a small chuckle escaping him. "Yeah. Yeah, they are..." This entire situation felt so absurd. The guy was looking at him expectantly and Therion gave in, offering up his hand again.

The man took a gentle hold of his wrist, "this is gonna sting a bit, so sorry in advance." He set to cleaning and disinfecting the cut, and it did sting- but it was nothing compared to the ache in his arm and ankle. "Gosh, where are my manners? I haven't even introduced myself-" he set aside the ball of cotton he had been using to apply the disinfectant and pulled out a roll of gauze. "The name's Alfyn- and I'm real sorry you got caught up in all this. I, I really thought..." he trailed off, shaking his head before focusing back on his task of bandaging Therion's injured hand. "Anyway- you got a name I can call ya, stranger?"

Therion watched Alfyn work, carefully flexing his fingers once the bandage was in place. He picked up his scarf, holding the comforting- if a bit soggy and musty- material close. "It's fine. I'm the one who got himself caught, not your fault." If not Miguel, with his luck he would have run into somebody else. Maybe not tonight, but eventually.

Alfyn replaced the lid to the disinfectant, securing it back in his kit. "Hey, now, don't go blamin' yourself either. Nobody deserves to get beat up outta nowhere like this."

Therion couldn't help but chuckle to himself again at that. "Nobody but the vampires you're out hunting, right?"

"Well, those monsters going about attackin' folks get what's coming to them." He hummed, looking between his medical supplies and Therion's injured arm. "Let me see if I can't figure something out here, keep your arm from movin' too much..."

Alfyn pulled the roll of gauze back out and scooted closer, "excuse me- let's see if we can't get this to work." Therion tensed as the man leaned over him, close enough that he could feel his breath as he carefully looped gauze over his shoulder and maneuvered his injured arm. He winced as his arm was moved, doing his best to hold back any pained sounds.

He was well and truly pathetic right now, wasn't he?

The task was done soon enough, Alfyn backed away and packed up his supplies. "Okay, think that'll hold ya together for now." He reattached the box to his belt and started to get back to his feet. "I'm gonna pick you up, okay?"

"You're going to _what?_ " Strong, but gentle, arms suddenly surrounded him, supporting his back and lifting his legs into a bridal-carry position. Therion found himself up against the man's chest, painfully aware of the constant thumps of his heartbeat. Pulsing against him, around him, a siren song to his constant thirst that he struggled so hard to keep satisfied.

Alfyn adjusted his grip, "easy, sorry, don't think you should be walking on that ankle. Won't be long, my car's not too far off."

All of Therion's focus was spent trying to keep himself calm. It was all just, too much. The pain, the fear, the constant thirst, none of this was going the way it should at this point either. He should be as dead as Miguel, back in the alley; yet here he was being carried like he was something fragile and precious down the street. He didn't deserve this. The gentle treatment, the reassuring kindness, that wasn't really for someone like him. They were things reserved, and better spent, on those who yet retained their humanity.

He snapped out of his thoughts as he realized he was being placed, carefully, into a soft seat. "Here we go, safe and out of the rain to boot!" Alfyn shot him a wink before securing the seat belt for him. "I gotta make a couple calls real quick, but then we'll get ya to th' hospital, alright?"

Therion nodded and Alfyn shut the door. He watched him through the window as he dug out his phone, one of those flat all-screen models people carried around these days.

And _breath_. He took in deep, slow breaths. He... he wasn't safe, not by a long shot. But the guy was right, he couldn't really walk much less run right now. And now he was strapped into some stranger's car- and a horrible thought cropped up. As much as he didn't want to go to the hospital- _what if_ the guy took him somewhere else? He could do pretty much _anything_ to him and nobody would know or care-

_**Breath**_. Panic was the enemy. To escape his swirling thoughts Therion took stock of his surroundings. The vehicle was older- nothing fancy even when it would have been new. It, strangely, smelled faintly of flowers and dirt. Looking down there was a spattering of potting soil and petals at his feet. Both of the car's cup holders were occupied, one by a half empty bottle of water and the other containing a small succulent plant in a tiny pot. Therion didn't really know much about plants, but to him it looked like someone stuck a cluster of plastic noodles in a pot.

The weird noodle thing wasn't the only plant, glancing into the rear view mirror Therion caught glimpses of some more conventional leafy, flowery plants in the back seat. There also looked to be a bag of soil, some empty pots, and a crumpled up brown apron.

Outside, Alfyn leaned on the hood of the car as he talked. The rain was starting to pick up and though he was facing away he looked... tired. A slight slouch to his posture, subtle- like he was trying to hide it.

The sky flashed with light, followed by a distant rumble of thunder just audible over the large drops of rain hammering onto the car roof and windshield. Alfyn hurried to the driver's side, phone still to his ear as he slid into his seat. "...I was just about to take him to the hospital, actually. Ravus Medical, yeah... right guess I'll see one a ya there then."

He ended the call, setting his phone down on the center console as he pulled out his keys. Therion glanced down at the screen, catching sight of the background image. Four people gathered around some sort of game at a table: a younger looking Alfyn, a boy that looked around his same age with messy brown hair, a little girl with long hair the same brown- intensely focused as she shook the dice. The fourth was an older woman, with graying blonde hair and the same sort of tired smile Alfyn had been showing him tonight. They looked happy. His family?

The screen went dark and the engine rumbled to life, stale air blowing into his face from the air vents.

"There we go, might take a bit but that should help us warm up." Alfyn wiggled in his seat, detaching his axe and other gear and tossing them onto the floor behind him. "You got anyone we should call? Friends or family to meet ya at the hospital?"

Therion shook his head before looking away, focusing on the world outside his window. "...no. I don't."

For a moment there was only the rumble of the engine between them, seconds dragging on.

"Alright," there was a click as Alfyn buckled his seat belt, the cabin rumbled as the car began to move. "I, don't wanna pry or anythin', but... surely there's somebody, somewhere, who's worried sick about ya. If ya have any names maybe we could-"

"There's nobody." Therion interrupted, shrinking in his seat. "I'm nobody." He kept his focus outside his window, watching the city roll by behind ripples of water.

The car slowed before turning a corner. "...sorry. I- ah..." A pause as Alfyn stumbled over his words. "...sounds pretty lonesome..."

Therion glanced over in time to, briefly, meet Alfyn's eye as the man glanced at him with a look of... not quite pity, concern? He looked back out the window. "It's for the best. Getting close to others only gets you hurt."

Alfyn took in a deep breath, then let it out. "Well- I promise ya I'm not gonna hurt ya. The folks at the hospital won't hurt ya either- we're gonna help you out, ya hear?"

He sounded so optimistic, so genuine, Therion couldn't help but laugh. Well, they would just see how long that promise lasted, wouldn't they? "If you say so." He went back to watching the rain. If these were his final hours, he supposed they weren't too bad. He was in pain, sure, but he was out of the cold. The damp. He could feel himself gradually warming up as the heating kicked in.

It was almost cruel, that he would be teased with false promises like this. The car hit a bump in the road and he groaned as his injured arm bounced slightly.

"Sorry about that-" Alfyn slowed down, squinting through the streaks his wipers left as they struggled to keep up with the downpour.

Therion relaxed back in his seat as much as he could, holding the arm sling steady with his free hand. "It's fine." Not the worse he's had to endure tonight. The silence between them returned as Alfyn focused more on his driving. In a way, it was relaxing too. The patter of rain, the rhythmic squeaking of the wipers and rumble of the engine, and- impossible to ignore- the thumping heartbeat of the man next to him- all combined into a sort of melody.

 

When the hospital came into view, large building shining with light in the dark, the rain had let up again. Alfyn pulled into a parking space in the sparse lot before reaching for his phone again.

He tapped and swiped at his screen, "okay, sit tight, I'm gonna let them know we're here and that you're gonna need a wheelchair."

Therion nodded, staring out at the massive building. This was it, then. The place where he would be facing his execution. Alfyn made the call, and he watched the shapes of people moving inside until someone stepped out. "I guess. The right thing to do would be to thank you." The person- a nurse, probably, was getting closer. "...it's Therion, by the way. My name."

"Well, Therion- can't really say this was a nice way t' meet ya-" Ideally, they wouldn't have met at all. "but don't worry, you're in good hands now."

 


	5. Dilemma

" _Phew_." Alfyn slumped into a seat in the hospital waiting room. What a night. Getting Therion admitted had been a flurry of paperwork and questions, a task made more difficult by the fact the poor man wasn't very vocal. Alfyn couldn't blame him, after what he had been through. This all was also only the start of the paperwork he would have to deal with tonight. He would have to do the whole song and dance over again once his police contact arrived, work on getting him officially into the aid program- probably run a check on the missing persons files.

Oh yeah. This was only the start of a very long night.

"Alf?" Oh, he knew that voice.

Alfyn looked up, greeting his friend with a grin and a wave. "Hey, Zeph! Didn't know you were workin' t'night."

Zeph smiled back, shaking his head as he stepped over. "Doctor Nuer told me you brought someone in. Anything you need to talk about? You look tired."

"I, ah, well," Alfyn's grin fell as he let out a sigh. "Nothing gets past ya, does it?" He ran a hand through his messy, damp hair. "I don't wanna keep ya though-"

Zeph settled in the seat at his side. "I think they'll survive without me fetching coffee for a few minutes."

Alfyn chuckled. "I dunno, I'd hate to get between a doctor and his coffee at this hour." He leaned back in his seat, head tipping back to stare up at the ceiling.

He paused for a moment, listening as a gentle melody echoed in the empty room. "...it was Miguel."

He felt a gentle hand on his shoulder and continued. "I just. I heard screaming and when I got there..." he felt his eyes stinging and he moved to quickly rub away any tears. "what he was doin' wasn't even just huntin'- he-" He rubbed away more tears. He felt ill, stomach churning with nausea at the memory of the fight. "Gods even after everythin' 'e begged me not t' kill him and I... I..."

Arms wrapped over his shoulders and Alfyn leaned into the hug, still trying not to cry. (With little success, he could feel tears rolling down his face.)

Zeph gently patted Alfyn's back. "Oh, Alf. Hey, you did what you had to do."

Alfyn drew in a shaky breath. "I. I really. I really thought that. Damn it all I thought that, maybe, not all vamps are bad. But it don't feel right pullin' a weapon on folks who ain't done anything..." He wiped the tears from his eyes again. "Miguel. He was fully ready to take advantage of that. If I had just, gotten rid of him the other day-"

"Hey," Zeph pulled back, keeping his hands on Alfyn's shoulders, "blaming yourself for this isn't going to help anyone, least of all yourself. You've been through a lot tonight." His expression softened and he dropped his hands. "Do you have work tomorrow?"

"Yeah, supposed to have a shift in the morning." He forced a smile even as Zeph fixed him with another stern look. "Most nights are quiet and it ain't a problem, just catch a nap between my patrol and shift." He sighed, dropping the grin and digging for his phone. "I can call in, take a sick day."

Zeph nodded, "I know you want to help people, just remember to take care of yourself too, okay?"

"Heh," a small smile crept onto Alfyn's face, "some days, ya really sound like mom." He pulled out his phone, staring at the family photo that served as his lock screen. "I can't believe it's been a year, now."

Zeph rested a hand on his shoulder again.

He sat silently as Alfyn made his call, leaving a message and hanging up his phone once more. "Alright, I better get back... you have a way to get home, right?"

"Yeah," Alfyn nodded, "m' car's parked outside."

Zeph paused as he moved to stand, concern once again on his face. "You _sure_ you'll be okay?" He sighed, "sorry. Just, not sure it'd be good for you to be alone tonight."

"Yeah, I" Alfyn's smile dropped again, sighing as he rubbed at the back of his neck. "alright, no, you're right...I, could call Mister Eisenburg, just, it's so late and I'd hate t' be a bother..."

"I think calling him sounds like a good idea." Zeph stood, stretching, then gave Alfyn one last pat on the shoulder. "Remember, it's okay to ask for help. I'll be checking in on you tomorrow, so you better actually rest!"

Alfyn's smile returned. "You're too good to me, Zeph."

 

  
Officer Darkwood was somebody Alfyn had worked with before. The young woman, strawberry blonde hair worn back in a braid, took her job seriously. With her on the case things were sure to be done by the book.

Which meant absolutely no cutting corners on the paperwork.

"Hu?" Alfyn looked up from the paper he had been reading over. At this point he felt like all the words and information where spilling right out his ears. He was tired, focusing was hard.

"Thine axe, the weapon you used to dispatch the beast?" The Officer asked again, "wherin is it? Thou doth remember vampiric blood is considered a bio-hazard?"

Oh. Shit. Alfyn dragged a hand over his face. "It's in my car. Just tossed it on the floor..." Well, guess it was a good thing he had called Olberic about taking him home already. "Damn it, it's probably got into the floor. Sorry, H'aanit."

H'aanit shook her head, pulling her radio out and stepping towards the door. "I'll letten clean-up know. If there is anything thou needens from the vehicle, best getten it nowe."

Alfyn hummed. "Got a few plants. Th' dirt should be fine..." He perked up, that's right, the plants! "Say, that gives me an idea! Bet some folks here would be happy for a little somethin' t' brighten things up!"

He hopped up, following by H'aanit's side on their way outside. H'aanit watched over his shoulder as he retrieved the potted plants, grimacing at the bloody axe haphazardly tossed on the floor of the back seats.

Alfyn wrinkled his nose. He could still smell a scent of lingering smoke, the drying blood had not only darkened but seemed to be smoldering. "Oh, that, doesn't look too great."

"Tis what happens, when a vampire is vanquished. Careful to not touch it- the smoldering magic can burn." H'aanit watched as Alfyn pulled out a couple plants, handing a bright orange lily her way before he shut the door.

Headlights illuminated the light rain around them as another car pulled into the lot. Alfyn smiled and waved at the familiar man who emerged before H'aanit handed back the potted lily. Mister Eisenburg was, perhaps, one of the only people Alfyn knew who was actually a little taller than him. The older man's dark hair was streaked with white, messy like he had just rolled out of bed. (Which, considering the hour, he likely had.)

The trio headed back inside, H'aanit's calls made and the plants retrieved. There was, after all, still more forms he needed to fill out.

 

 

"Alright," Alfyn set down his pen, flexing his fingers. "Anything else I gotta fill out or sign?"

H'aanit shook her head, gathering up the papers. "All that is left is the evidence documented by the hospital and getting an account of the event from the victim. Thou mayest go home now, rest."

It was then that Zeph returned to the waiting area, hurrying over to the small group. "Ah, Alf! You're still here, good-"

"Zeph! Hey!" Alfyn grinned, standing and picking up one of the potted plants: a delicate white and purple orchid. "Is it possible for us to visit the patient?"

"Actually, ah," Zeph glanced around the room, a few other people were waiting for less urgent issues. "Yeah, if you could come back that'd be great." He turned to leave, motioning for the others to follow. He dropped his voice once they passed into the infirmary. "I don't want to cause any sort of panic or anything with the people here, but,"

Alfyn, walking a pace ahead, didn't hear. He spotted the familiar poff of off-white hair and hurried to the room. He put on his best smile, knocking lightly on the open door before stepping into the room. "Hey! Therion, right? How ya holdin' up?"

Therion was laying in the hospital bed, propped up in a mostly upright position. The thin blanket was pulled up over his lap and legs, the young man rubbed the material between his fingers with his working hand- which now had and IV access attached. His other arm was now in a proper sling and brace. The hospital gown seemed to accent just how small he was.

He sighed, still looking away at the wall when Alfyn entered. "You don't, you don't have to keep pretending to be _nice_ to me." His words were slurred, likely from whatever he had been given for the pain. "Just. Do what you got to do."

"Ah," Alfyn paused mid step, "I'm sorry?"

Therion turned his head, looking him over with hazy eyes. He stared, seafoam green eyes wavering between his face and the orchid he had brought with him. "...you're, going to kill me with a flower?"

"What?!" Now it was Alfyn's turn to be confused. He shook his head, "No, no I thought it'd be nice is all, brighten up your room a bit. I'm not- nobody is gonna try and kill ya here. This is a hospital."

Therion blinked, watching as Alfyn walked through the room to set the plant down on the counter. "Funny, 's not the impression I got when th' doctor sent for you."

"Alf!" Zeph had poked his head into the room, motioning Alfyn back outside.

With one last baffled glance in Therion's direction, Alfyn followed Zeph out. Doctor Nuer was back; an older man with black hair and a carefully kept beard. The tiredness about his features made him look older than he actually was. He was busy talking over a file with H'aanit. Discussion of the sustained injuries, from what he could hear.

Zeph sighed, coming to a stop by Mister Eisenburg. "You didn't even hear me, did you?"

"Uh," Alfyn rubbed at his neck. "I. Guess not. What's goin' on?"

"Alright, so, the attack victim you brought in? He's..." Zeph glanced back at the room, through the open door. "He's a vampire. You brought a vampire into the hospital."

It took a moment for the words to register in Alfyn's sluggish mind. That, now that couldn't be right. Could it? Zeph looked too serious to be joking. "He is? You ain't pulling my leg now, right?"

"He is, without a doubt." Doctor Nuer had stepped over, crossing his arms. "Reflective eyes, fangs, blood sample confirmed it. You're the slayer, getting rid of it is your job."

The doctor was right, it was his job, wasn't it? Alfyn glanced back into the room. He supposed this explained a few things. Why Therion hadn't wanted to come to the hospital in the first place, their little exchange just now. In the room Therion was still in bed, he seemed to be staring at the flower he had brought in.

He frowned, all that work and effort and. He hadn't saved anyone after all, had he? A pit formed in his stomach as he felt the last shreds of his weary mind fraying away.

A warm, steady arm wrapped gently over his shoulders. "Excuse us. It has been a long night." Alfyn followed as Mister Eisenburg lead them a short distance away. "Easy now, deep breaths."

Alfyn rubbed at his stinging eyes, doing his best to comply. The action was unsteady, he hadn't realized it but he was shaking ever so slightly. "Sorry. Sorry, Olberic, I should be able t' hold t'gether better than this...I just..." Deep breaths, right, keep calm. Collect his thoughts. "I've really made a mess of things."

Olberic continued to hold him, gently patting his back. "Take the time you need, best to make decisions with a clear mind."

"That's just it, though... do I _actually_ have a choice here?" Alfyn slumped, leaning against Olberic. "I mean I just saw what happens if I let 'em go. Gettin' rid of vampires so they don't endanger th' public is my job." He took a deep breath, letting it out as a sigh. "And everyone is jus' waitin' for me t' do that... even..." Even Therion. And it was sad to think, he hadn't even tried to fight him off.

Olberic hummed in consideration. "It may not seem so, however the choice is indeed yours to make. What is it that you wish to do?"

He thought about that. He didn't feel like he was the best judge of character anymore. After all, he gave Miguel a chance- which lead to this mess in the first place. At the same time, Therion didn't seem dangerous. He seemed hurt, and scared, and Alfyn had promised to help him. "I... I don't want t' kill him. But what can I even do? The slayer program ain't gonna help him now."

Olberic smiled, giving him a gentle squeeze. "Perhaps not, but I may have an idea."


	6. Hospice

Drifting.

 

Therion felt _light_ , as though his mind was floating around inside his head. A product of what he had been given to soothe the pain in his broken arm and dislocated ankle. He was distantly aware that the pain was still there, but it was dull and he couldn't bring himself to care. What he really wanted to do was sleep, allow the haze of the drug to pull him under. He resisted- if he fell asleep now chances were he wouldn't be waking up again. 

Did he want that? To see the end coming?

Would it be better to sleep through it?

That was what was going to happen here after all, wasn't it? The doctor had worked out what he was and sent for the slayer to finish him off. Even if the slayer, Alfyn, didn't even bring a proper weapon to do the deed. Instead he brought a potted plant. A flower.

Why a _flower?_

Therion stared at the plant in question. The long stem was so delicate, like a string or wire, that it appeared to be tied to a piece of bamboo for support. At the top of the impossibly thin stem was a single bloom- white accented with light purple around the edges, the shape so unique and condition so pristine he couldn't be sure if the plant was real or fake. 

Time ticked on, minutes? Hours? Therion couldn't be sure from his warped senses- but wasn't it odd that he was waiting at all? He struggled to latch onto any of the questions that drifted through his thoughts, trying to ponder any topic further quickly got overtaken by thoughts of how tired he was.

How thirsty he was becoming.

Wouldn't it be so nice to close his eyes for a while? To rest under a blanket (a thin sheet) in a bed (a firm pad of foam) for the first time in years?

Just as his heavy lids threatened to close a soft knock startled him back awake. Therion blinked, tearing his eyes away from the flower to look over at the new arrival. Alfyn had returned, his expression mirroring the one he wore at their first meeting: a cautious smile. As tired as the man looked- as much as whatever worries and stresses he had weighed him down- the soft smile still felt genuine. Therion blinked, taking in how red and puffy Alfyn's eyes were.

It was almost as though...

"You've been crying." The words left Therion's mouth before he could think better of it. "Why? Not like you're th' one sitting around waiting to die."

Alfyn's smile faltered again, falling to... was that, concern? "Alright, yeah," he rubbed at the back of his neck, "guess you ain't too happy t' see me again, all things considered." 

Was he? Therion shrugged, head tilting back to rest against the padded surface of the bed that served as a pillow. "Can't say I have the energy to care."

"Hmm, yeah," Alfyn yawned, "it's been a long night, hasn't it?" He stepped into the room, bringing something up in his hand as he approached the bed. A plastic bag of sorts, bulging with its contents. Whatever was inside was a deep burgundy red, carefully labeled and with tubing extending out not unlike the I.V. access that had been planted on Therion's hand.

A blood pack? That was strange. Why would he be carrying around something like that?

"Here," Alfyn extended the pack towards him, "blood helps vampires heal, right?"

Therion stared, eyes drifting between Alfyn's face and the extended blood pack. "You're... _giving_ this to me?" He snorted, barking out a short laugh. This was hilarious, absurd, Alfyn was a vampire slayer why was he trying to FEED him? "How did you even _get_ that?"

Alfyn's smile returned, "oh, we just had t' ask nicely for it." He then- gods be good- winked. "Friend of mine's idea, actually. He was finishin' up some paperwork but he should be in soon."

A friend of his? Therion picked up his head, looking around Alfyn and out the door. There was a police officer, judging by her uniform. Nurses, the doctor, and one additional person.

The older man looked out of place; unkempt hair, wrinkled clothing under his blue jacket, like he had rolled out of bed and gotten dressed in a hurry. Was that the friend Alfyn was talking about? Points of information drifted and tried to connect in his mind.

Therion shifted his focus back to Alfyn, who still stood with the blood pack held his way. He could hardly refuse- the thirst was intense and getting worse with every passing moment. He took the pouch in his good hand. After a bit of fiddling- and some more help from Alfyn- he was able to take a long, grateful sip from the tubing that extended from the pouch.

Human blood was a treat he never allowed himself. Therion hated how **perfect** it was, like fresh water hard earned at the end of a difficult day or the first bite of food after going hungry for days. He had only tasted it once before, memories drifting up before he could think to distract himself.

He could still remember how worried he was that it wouldn't work, the bruising force of the grip on his wrist. Darius hadn't had the mercy of being unconscious for his change. He had screamed and cried- and Therion had done his best to soothe him through it all.

Had he planned it all, even then? Had it all really been just a lie?

It hadn't been fake to him.

"Therion?" It wasn't Alfyn's voice, but the gentle hand gingerly placed on the shoulder of his bad arm that snapped him back.

Therion jolted, elbowing at Alfyn with his braced arm. He immediately regretted the action, wincing at the jolt of pain that pierced through his hazy mind. He stared at him as the adrenaline from the panic still had him on high alert.

Alfyn held up his hands, "sorry- you seemed a bit out of it."

Therion looked away. The panic and blood meal both served to clear his head. He turned his attention to the pack in his hand. "Why are you trying to help me?"

"Well," Alfyn stepped around the bed, settling into one of the chairs in the room. "I promised ya I would, right?"

Therion stared at him as he took another long sip. "Maybe I should rephrase: what is it you people _want_ from me?"

Alfyn frowned, "nothing, I swear! Just- okay-" he let out a tired sigh, "I don't want t' kill ya. I really don't. I didn't get int' this line of work t' kill innocent people."

Therion quirked his brow. "Sounds like you're in the wrong line of work. You really think vampires are still people?"

"I do." He rubbed at the back of his neck when Therion fixed him with a skeptical look. "I know, seems strange for a slayer. I thought, maybe..." he trailed off, looking away to the floor. "Most folks are just tryin' t' make a living, stay alive and all. Vampires are cursed so things are even harder for 'em. Maybe we could, reach an agreement someday or somethin?"

Gods, how could someone who fought so fiercely be so soft? Therion shook his head. "You're going to get yourself hurt. Vampires won't hesitate to take advantage and leave you for dead, would think a slayer of all people would realize that."

Alfyn stared at the floor in silence, thinking, before responding. "and, are you saying that applies to you, too?"

Therion didn't reply. It was the assumption people were supposed to make about vampires, it wasn't like he could deny it and expect to get anywhere.

"Well," Alfyn scratched at his face again, "Okay, so, my friend- Mister Eisenburg- is workin' on gettin' ya released under his custody. He can see t' ya medical bills, and officially he'll be responsible for your actions-"

"In other words," Therion tried to keep his voice even, as well as his nerves and the lingering painkillers allowed, "I'm going to be your _prisoner_."

"Wha-" Alfyn shook his head, "no, no that- that ain't th' intention at all."

Therion crossed his good arm in front of himself. "But there are going to be rules, about where I can go and what I can do. Right? One wrong move and it's the signal to put me down?"

" **Look-** " There was an edge of bite to Alfyn's tone before he paused, taking a deep breath and letting it out. When he next spoke his gentle calm had returned. "We just, we're tryin' t' get ya out of here alive. If tomorrow you wanna up and leave and never see us again- that's a choice you're free t' make." He fixed him with a pleading look. "But, you're also free t' stay long as ya like. Whatever you decide, unless ya try t' kill someone or somethin' nobody's gonna be comin' after ya."

Therion couldn't say he exactly believed him, after all- it was nothing but cheap words, wasn't it? The proof was in actions.

Time would tell, then, just what was to become of him now.

 

  
The tall man who looked like he had just rolled out of bed, it turned out, was Olberic. He had a look about him up close, angular- like he was chiseled from stone. As easy as it would have been for him to be an intimidating wall to someone as small as himself, there was a softness in eyes eyes and the way he smiled. A patient tone in his voice when he spoke that felt familiar in a sense Therion couldn't quite place.

When he arrived, Alfyn had actually dozed off in his seat. He stepped over, gingerly nudging the young man in the shoulder to wake him up. 

Therion pretended not to listen when he introduced himself, giving the same explanation that Alfyn had. That, officially, Therion was now registered as being in Olberic's custody. There were options for where he could stay, but if he wanted to leave that would be okay too. (It all sounded too good to be true, really. There had to be a catch somewhere.) 

They were getting ready to leave, Olberic and Alfyn assisting him into a wheelchair when it was evident the nurses wanted nothing to do with him anymore. Alfyn passed him the flower (an orchid, he called it) before going to gather up the rest of Therion's meager belongings.

"What the-" Alfyn frowned, holding up what was left of Therion's jacket. The sleeve that had been on his broken arm had been cut open, up the arm and through the chest area to where the hood and zipper met. "ah, guess, that was for your arm, hu?"

Therion shrugged as he allowed Alfyn to drape the garment over his shoulders. "I guess. Did the same to my pants." He frowned. He didn't exactly have a change of clothes, and the prospect of walking the streets in a hospital gown- even if the weather was warmer it just wouldn't be an option. His scarf was draped on next, which he gratefully wrapped around the lower half of his face.

Alfyn hummed, walking in step at his side as Olberic wheeled him out. "Guess you'll have t' borrow some of ours til we can go to th' store."

Therion looked between Alfyn and Olberic. Both of them tall and broad shouldered- more so that he was. Another small laugh escaped him at the thought. "Yeah, we'll see how that works out."

Outside was cold, a damp chill that settled into his bones through the thin fabric of the hospital gown and jacket. It was a blessing that the stay in the cold was brief- for soon Therion found himself maneuvered into the back seat of a box-shaped car. The interior was surprisingly spacious- smelling faintly of coffee. A few loose cloth bags littered the ground, pushed out of the way to give Therion more leg room. Alfyn claimed the seat at his side, asking him how he was, Therion responded with another shrug.

As the engine rumbled to life and the heating began to warm the cabin Therion all but melted into his seat. Like before the ride was relaxing: a light patter of rain, the rumble of the engine, the heartbeats around him. Without the horrible pain it was enough to make him want to close his eyes and take in the sounds.

 

Therion only knew he had fallen asleep when he was startled awake by the sound of the door at his side opening, a cool breeze robbing him of the warmth he had settled into. He grumbled, opting to attempt to walk instead of being manhandled further. He'd had more than his fill of strangers putting their hands on him, thank you very much. He winced as he put weight on his ankle: painful, but not unbearable.

Alfyn led the way through a lobby, up an elevator, and down a hall. He spoke with a hushed tone as he dug out his keys. "Luckily Olberic and I live on th' same floor, so you'll be able t' go back an' forth if ya like." 

After what felt like too long they arrived at the right door, Alfyn holding it open for the others to enter. "Here we are- it ain't much but it's home."

The first thing that greeted them was a dining table- one that Therion recognized as the setting of the photo on Alfyn's phone. Though, it was considerably more cluttered now: plants, pots, piles of mail. It looked like he might have been in the middle of transferring plants to bigger pots. In the next more open area was a couch, shelves full of books and cases for movies, and a television. The coffee table was, again, cluttered. Books, cups, a few half full snacks. 

Therion was ready to collapse on the couch when Alfyn motioned for him to follow him into a short hallway. "Okay, there's a bathroom here- towels and linens are in the closet in there too, that's my room if ya need anythin', and" he hesitated for a moment as he reached for the handle of the final door. "this is m- th' spare room."

The room was considerably more tidy than the rest of the house. The bed had been made with care, a dresser and vanity up against two of the walls had only a couple framed pictures and old decorative storage boxes on them respectively. (A jewelry box, Therion noted. If he WAS going to leave in the night, it might be worth a look.) A layer of dust covered everything. 

Therion limped into the room, eyeing the photographs. One was a young boy covered in freckles with impossibly messy hair- Alfyn as a child? The other photos were considerably older: a black and white photo of a young girl, and a faded photo of a woman with long, straw colored hair. Smiling with another woman, waving at the camera. A clue to who this room used to belong to, perhaps?

Alfyn bid him good night and Therion collapsed onto the bed, worming his way under the covers. 

For the first time in years, he slept soundly.


	7. Morning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and now for something cozy and domestic. uwu

Getting up the following morning was a slow process. Therion awoke feeling well rested for once, that wasn't the problem. The problem was the gentle support of the mattress beneath him, the warm, plush weight of the blankets he was wrapped in. Surrounded by comfort like this he was all too willing to turn over, tuck in against the pillows, and doze back off.

And he would have, gladly, if only his bladder would allow him.

Therion pushed himself up with one arm, the other still splinted from the previous night, taking a moment to stretch. An experimental turn of his ankle revealed that, thankfully, there was no longer any pain from the dislocation the night before. His arm was another story. It would seem even with the generous blood meal it would take more than several hours of sleep to mend.

The apartment was still dark and silent when he managed to drag himself out of bed and into the hall. The sun was up, evident by the ambient light that filtered in through the windows. Whatever the time was, it seemed Alfyn was still asleep. That suited Therion just fine, would make it easier to slip out unnoticed. Less fuss that way.

_Was that what he wanted?_

Bathroom found, business done, Therion stared himself down in the mirror over the sink. If only the rain did something to rinse away the grease and grime that clung to his hair. Instead it was left flat, sticking out at odd angles allowing the left side of his face to peek through. He frowned, running his fingers through his bangs in an attempt to hide his mark of shame. He found places to bathe on occasion, locking himself away in a public restroom to scrub down over a sink. Sometimes he could sneak into a gym or community center and find a proper shower, but since he liked to keep on the move he rarely visited a place twice.

He needed a proper shower, and, well, there was one right here open for him to use.

Decision made, Therion threw off the thin hospital gown and carefully removed the splint from his arm. It felt stiff, sore, an angry bruise darkening his skin- but he could move it and his fingers, it felt stable. Stable enough to scrub himself down, hopefully.

Water on, step in, close the floral patterned curtain. (The bathroom had decorations he might have expected of an elderly woman, with a vine patterned wallpaper and a painting of flowers on the wall.) The warm water stung at first, but quickly felt soothing. Without a second thought he made use of the available soap and shampoo. It smelled faintly of grassy herbs and lemon. It was, thankfully, tolerable- he didn't exactly have options at the moment.

With a content sigh, enjoying the warmth of the water for a moment more, it was inevitably time to shut off the water and dry off. The towel Therion retrieved, he discovered, was large- more suited for a beach towel than simply drying off. It was also soft, and Therion wasn't about to complain he could wrap himself completely in the light green material. 

Especially considering he did not exactly have a change of clothing with him. At this point, the towel offered more privacy than the hospital gown ever did. He dried off as well as was needed for him to not drip on the floor before wrapping the fabric around his shoulders, covering his small body completely.

Therion paused as he reached for the door, listening. He couldn't hear anything- perhaps Alfyn had slept through the running water. Even with a towel he wasn't exactly keen on running into anyone in his undressed state. 

Satisfied there was nobody stirring in the hallway, Therion exited the bathroom and made his way back to the room he had stayed in. They had retrieved his clothing, but aside from his (cut up) jacket he didn't have anything to wear.

_Right, time to loot then._

 

 

The sound of running water pulled Alfyn from his sleep. He buried himself in his blankets, groggy and exhausted from the previous night. Reluctantly, he reached for his phone- pawing blindly at the nightstand where the device was plugged in and waiting. 

Phone found, he dragged it over to squint at the too-bright screen from his nest of blankets. Half past eleven, he should have been up hours ago. Must have been so tuckered out he slept through the alarm. ( _Or did he cancel it at Zeph's behest to rest? He couldn't remember._ ) 

With a groan he sat up, stretching out and feeling his back pop and crack from the movement. By the sound of things, someone was in the shower ( _someone...Olberic would just shower at his place, so, Therion. The vampire he and Mister Eisenburg were helping out. Good to know he was up and moving on his own._ ) With the bathroom occupied, guess that just meant he would have to start with breakfast.

Alfyn dragged himself out of bed, pausing as he went to open the door. He had company- right- he should get dressed _now_. Or, at the very least, throw on a proper pair of pants. He wouldn't want to make his new guest uncomfortable by walking around in just his drawers.

Pulling on a simple shirt and sweatpants, Alfyn made his way out of his room and to the kitchen. The smell of brewing coffee greeted him as he turned the corner into the kitchen space. Olberic was already seated at the table, taking a careful sip from his own mug.

Alfyn smiled and waved. "Hey, mornin'!" He bee-lined for the coffee pot, getting down a mug of his own. "Ya want somethin' for breakfast? Got eggs, bread for toast, think I got a package of sausages that need cookin'. They're really good- got chunks of apple mixed in-"

"I shall help." Olberic sat down his mug, moving stiffly to stand. The night spent on the couch had done him no favors. He waved Alfyn off before he could start apologizing. "How are you faring?"

"Well, I," Alfyn let out a sigh, looking away as he got down a skillet. "I'm tryin' not t' think about it too much..." Pan on stove, heat on. "Kinda wish I did go t' work t'day- anything t' keep myself occupied so I don't think about..."

Olberic rested a hand on his shoulder. "I understand, lad." It was a gruesome thing, to see a person die. To see them turn to ash before your eyes. He had seen it himself, back before he retired and took up less dangerous work. "Perhaps if our new friend wishes, we can find something to do together today."

Alfyn smiled, "Yeah, yeah that sounds like a good idea." He accepted the package of sausages from Olberic, cutting it open before dumping them into the heated pan. The meat sizzled, smell mingling with that of the coffee- good enough to get anyone's stomach rumbling. "Maybe we could still stop by Clearbrook Flowers, left all my dirt in my car but I'd like to work on repottin' those spider plant sprouts..." He trailed off, turning the sausages in the pan. He felt like there was something he was forgetting. Something they were going to need to do today. Or something he promised someone?

"Aye, we can," Olberic busied himself cracking eggs into a bowl, "we shall see what he wants to do. I imagine he would like to wear something other than your clothes."

"My...I didn't-" Alfyn's eyes went wide. That was right- Therion's clothes had gotten all cut up at the hospital. But, wait, if he hadn't gotten any clothes from anyone but was already in the shower-

Alfyn turned on his heel, rushing from the kitchen. "I'll be right back!" 

He hurried back to the bedrooms, passing the now open door of the empty bathroom. "Hey, Therion, sorry I-" He knocked on the door, the first hit swinging it open. _Oh no oh no oh-_

Therion spun around, eyes wide, freezing at the sudden intrusion. His mother's old dresser had its drawers open, various outfits pulled out from being rummaged through. Therion was dressed in what had been one of her go-to sweaters for this time of year: a soft, fluffy, cream colored sweater with a black cat adorned with a red ribbon on the front. Though Alfyn's mother was smaller than he was, the sweater was still over-sized on Therion's small frame. Sleeves just a little too long, hem hanging down a little too low. It looked at though he had found her pants and belts too.

 

  
Therion's mind raced, pulse pounding in his ears. _Caught_. He braced for what might come next. He didn't know this man terribly well, would he shout? Would he get physical? His instincts screamed at him to run, but he found his feet frozen in place. The only exit was blocked.

And yet, nothing happened. In fact, Alfyn seemed just as frozen as he was- eyes wide as the moon and face flushed as the door swung open. 

Alfyn finally looked away, rubbing the back of his neck as he spoke. "Sorry about, ah, see ya found somethin' t' wear. Good."

He wasn't yelling, but something in his tone still sounded off. Troubled. Therion glanced back at the dresser. The clothing had been put away for so long, it smelled more of the wood of the furniture than of any sort of detergent. The layers of dust, the old photos.

This room, and its contents, used to belong to someone- someone who had evidently been gone for a while now. He should have pieced it together sooner. A family member, whoever the woman was in the room's pictures and on Alfyn's phone. His mother, or an aunt? They looked too similar to not be related. As long as the room had been abandoned, something must have kept Alfyn from coming in here.

So, if he had to guess, Alfyn just walked in on him wearing his dead mother's clothes. _Real smooth._

"Is it? You don't sound so sure." He tugged up on one of the long sleeves, freeing his hand as cloth bunched up on his arm. "If you need me to change-"

Alfyn waved a dismissive hand. "No, no, it's fine, really!" He sighed, eyes wandering around the room. "I've been meaning to go through the stuff in here, donate the old clothes and such. Heh, maybe ya can help me with that later, see if there's anything ya wanna keep."

Therion scrutinized his face for another long moment. Just what was with this guy?

Apparently he was taking too long to respond, because Alfyn began to ramble on again. "Shucks guess I should really be apologizin' for bargin' in on ya like that. I'll, ah," he took the doorknob in hand, starting to leave. "Oh! We're makin' breakfast if you're hungry. Got some coffee goin' too."

He could tell, the smell of cooking food was wafting in subtly through the open door. It would be a lie to say it wasn't inviting- it always was. Made his stomach growl and mouth water. But, it didn't matter, there was no point in him partaking. Therion shook his head. "Thanks, but, I don't...have to eat."

"O-oh. I, I see." Alfyn scratched at his face, still awkwardly lingering in the doorway. "Well, if ya want t' join us anyway, Mister Eisenburg and I are in the kitchen."

Therion shrugged and Alfyn, at last, closed the door and left him alone. He made a frustrated sound, combing a hand through the mess of his drying hair. Stupid, guy making himself uncomfortable for the sake of some monster he just met. 

To distract himself from his thoughts and now growling stomach, he decided to turn his attention to an old closet. Upon pulling open the door he was met by a disorganized wall of clutter: boxes, hanging coats, mismatched shoes- the dust and cobwebs somehow worse than the room itself. Just opening the door disturbed the contents enough to threaten to fall, unsettling just enough that the door couldn't just be closed again with any sort of ease.

 

  
The smell of brewed coffee and cooking food was stronger as he turned into the kitchen. A plate of sausages sat in the middle of the table, three empty plates set out around them. They had set one out for him. Therion wasn't sure how to feel about that. It was strange, almost...nice? Or weird. He decided to go with weird. 

Alfyn greeted him with a smile and wave as he returned to the table with forks. "Hey! Glad you decided t' join us after all!"

 Therion huffed, lingering behind the chair of the unclaimed spot at the table- judging by the placement of the others' partially filled mugs. It wasn't as though he had much else to do, anyway. "You didn't have to..." he gestured at the setting at the table as Alfyn placed his fork.

"Well, sure I did. Only right for everyone t' have a spot t' be welcome." He chuckled lightly, "at least, that's how I was raised."

Therion mulled that over. Hospitality was not a completely foreign concept to him, but it had been a long time since he had been on the receiving end of it. "Right, but," his eyes lingered on the sausages in the center of the table. It wasn't fair. Having a place for him, like he was allowed to partake in something as simple as a meal. "Food is wasted on me. I don't have to eat."

"Oh?" Olberic glanced back from his spot at the stove. "Now, who told you that?" He returned his attention forward, to whatever he was cooking.

Therion bit his cheek, staring down at his empty plate, refusing to answer. It was a conclusion he and Darius had arrived at. Therion seemed to do fine enough on blood meals alone, and if he didn't eat then their earnings could stretch further. 

The older man shut off the stove, turning to carry a plate piled high with scrambled eggs to the table. "Vampires can still eat food. They require more frequent blood meals if they don't."

"How...?" Therion scrutinized him, struggling to read his mostly neutral expression. "How would you know?"

"I...met my share of vampires during my time as an officer of the law." He settled into the chair opposite of Therion, setting down the eggs and picking up his mug. "You did not here from me, but, quite a few people lead relatively normal lives with vampirism."

Alfyn's eyes went wide as he speared a sausage with his fork. "Wha- really? Shucks, you've never mentioned any folks like that before!"

Olberic nodded. "Aye, and I trust you understand why?"

Alfyn sighed, scratching at his face. "Sorry, jus'..." He shook his head. "Right, well, Therion would ya like somethin' t' drink after all, then? We got coffee, water, I think th' milk is still good..."

Therion considered, the smell of food and the gurgle of his stomach all but making the choice for him.

He caved, pulling out the chair and taking a seat. "Is there... cream or sugar for the coffee?"

Alfyn's smile returned, bright and cheery. (Also weird, why did he keep smiling at him?) "There sure is, I'll get 'em out for ya."


End file.
